Ahff the Wagon
by toadstoolcouch
Summary: Pickles goes to a bachelor party with Seth right before his wedding. This is what happened behind the scenes from the episode, including Pickles' own revenge. Incest, slash, extreme, violence


Disclaimer: All characters and related stuff belongs to the creators of Metalocalypse and everyone else at the top. The characters and the basic plot that I'm deriving this fanfic from is not mine. And I make no kind of monetary profit from this. Just a silly fanfic, no harm intended.

By the end of the video everyone was on edge. Pickles, still staring dumbly at the screen with a hanging jaw, wasn't even breathing. He had just seen his brother on film, clad in a sweater vest and penny loafers (far from anything he'd ever imagine him in, ever) and his trademark smirk advertising himself to him, trying to entice him to come see him again. Certainly a nice touch to add that he'd already locked the band into playing for his wedding.

"O my fucking Jesus," Pickles hissed, white knuckling the back of the chair. He spun to face the others quickly, and with a drawn, pallid face, said, "Doods, just wanna make one thing clear, what I said 'bout him, in the studio..." he fought for control, tried to keep looking each one in the eye. "It was true, ok, but it's naht a big deal at all."

No one wanted to say anything, but Toki blurted, "Whats, you's twos goes and talk about its or something?"

"Ya, ya we did, ok? Look." He rubbed his forehead. "This was a lahng time ago, I was fucking 14, he was 18. We were...we fought a laht, I guess, and one day he...he just..." He paused but willed himself to go on. Staring at the table made it easier. He had promised himself he wouldn't have to tell anyone anything, but he knew he'd have to give them something, if only to make the next reunion slightly more bearable. Just let him think the issue's dropped, he thought. "He was a laht stronger than me," he said quietly, then glanced at the guys for a second, who have never looked so uncomfortable. He hated doing this to them.

"Gos on," Toki said.

"Fuckin'..." he forced. "He fuckin' gaht me, I'm naht gonna go into the fucking details, but moral of the story I kicked his fucking ass fer it!"

In a cold, sure voice, Murderface said, "I'dj have killed him in the schpot."

"Ya, ok, and go to fucking juvie?" he snapped. "I fucked him up pretty good, ok."

"What'ja do to him?" Nathan asked.

A bit flustered, Pickles replied, "I...uh...I broke his nose."

"Yous breaks him in the nose?" Skwisgaar asked with a grin. "But he's nots lookings like his nose was brokens!"

"Dood, this was like, 20 years ago, shit! He gaht better."

"Yous sure yous not split his lip?" Toki asked, "That's makes the bloods too."

"I...he...shit, whatever, ya, maybe I split his fucking lip!"

"Kinda different from breaking his nose," said Nathan, pondering. He looked over to Skwisgaar and said, "That's kind of an important detail."

"The fuck, you think I'm fucking lying?" Pickles screamed, slamming his hands on the table, about to get up. "I had my own fucking brother on tahp 'a me, I had other shit to think about than if it was his fucking nose or naht!  
"Pickles, Is sorry," Toki said, while the others recoiled from Pickles' outburst. "Wes not talks anymore."

"Fuck, you guys! This is hard enough, I don't even wanna tell you..."

"This has been like the most you've even said since we saw our families," Nathan said. "So you beat him up, huh?"

"Ya, yous fucks him ups?" Skwisgaar asked, eyes lighting up.

"Ya, I did," Pickles answered, puffing up a bit from all this. "Made him scared to ever fucking touch me again."

"Yous makes him cry?" Skwisgaar asked eagerly, with a laugh.

"Uh, ya, sure. Ya, he was crying." Before he got too carried away, he got back to the original subject. "But that shit's in the past, guys. It's done. That day at the studio, I was just really fucking stressed, and man, sometimes he just won't shut the fuck up. I just couldn't handle it."

"Ya, sure."

"Well, I called him after that, and you know we talked and shit..."

"You calledj him?" Murderface asked incredulously.

"Ya. Several times. He's really sahrry, and like I said, it was so damn lahng ago, we've put it behind us."

Nobody looked convinced, but they all tried to convince Pickles they were.

He sighed. "Look, just don't start any shit with him, ok? I don't want any trouble, just go to this stupid wedding, perform, then fucking bail, eh?"

"Brutal."

"Schure."

"Pfft!"

"Oks Pickle."

"Right then. I'm going free basing, come get me when we're ready to go."

When he left the room, Toki jumped up to follow him into the privacy of the hallway. He pulled on the redhead's shoulder and said, "Yous never tolds me yous already talks to him, Pickle."

Pickles kept going. "Ya, well, it's all figured out now, naht a prahblem anymore. And you know, I really don't have to tell you anything."

Toki nodded and a cold grin spread on his face. "Yous lyins, isn't yous?"

"What are you talking about?" Pickles asked impatiently.

"Backs there. Yous says yous beats him ups, he never touch yous, it's overs." He sneered. "Bulls shit!"

"Fuck you!"

"I knows when you lyings, Pickle."

"Go fuck yourself," When Toki tried to grab him again, he shrugged his hand off and left. Toki stared after him for a moment, then punched the wall.

***

Pickles went through the first hour of meeting his family in a daze. Incredibly high (no one else would notice, though; he was good at hiding that, from living with his parents), he only had to suffer 10% of the meeting as he would sober. It went by quickly, the praise of his brother, the grand tour of the attic room. He was able to ignore the eyes boring into him as his brother seized him for a hug he didn't return. The words whispered into his ear were lost immediately, just the usual jeering and threats he thought he'd escaped long ago. He just tuned it all out, and didn't bother to reply. The less he said, and the less attention he drew to himself, the better. It was a blissful escape for him that they started talking about Amber and the baby waiting to be born.

Overall he was out of it until they got to the strip club, where he started to come down. But there were still a few details that remained painfully clear. Like how Seth's hands made his body tingle when he pulled him close. How he felt that heart beating, the warmth of his breath in his ear, the scratchiness of his stubble on his cheek. And of course, how defeated he felt from that sudden punch in the arm, in front of everyone, no less. One quick glance to his older brother's eyes told him he was beat. No point fighting back. A familiar feeling.

He sat with the others on a grimy booth while Seth enjoyed a lap dance and a tray load of cheap shots. He was so desperate for the chance to smoke or snort or shoot something in the bathroom, but feared being followed. At least he was safe with four other guys around at all times.

"Hey," Seth drawled as he made his way to the table. At first Pickles stayed where he was, at the end of the booth, but Seth shoved him to the side so he could sit down. His breath reeked and his body sagged heavily onto the redhead's small frame as he fumbled for words. "You drinking anything?"

"Thought you said you quit drinking," Pickles said, staring stonily.

"Wanna split a Bailey's?" Seth had his arm tight around Pickles' shoulder, and was leaning on him so hard Pickles had to lean away, and ended up pressing into Skwisgaar, who just watched, amused.

"You said you quit..."

"It's my fucking bachelor party, douche bag!" Seth yelled. When the waitress walked past, he growled, "Hey, sexy, gimme a Bailey's, atta girl." He slipped some bills into her bra, while she barely held back her contempt. "Doesn't fucking count!" Pointing at him for emphasis, he spilled his drink into Pickles' lap, and laughed when the redhead jumped at the cold. "Gahd, trying to be Dad, or something?"

"Kinda wish he were here," Pickles snapped to his face, and he saw his brother's face darken in a flash. "Knock some sense into you."

Seth's tone was dangerous. "What I say about that..."

Flinching slightly, Pickles said quietly, "Sahrry, forget it."

Seth maintained his cold glare, and there was a thick tension that hung over everyone until he laughed heartily and punched his brother in the shoulder. "Ahh, you dumb little shit. You're lucky I'm buzzed, or I'd have split yer fucking lip." He took the bottle when it came out and started chugging it even as the waitress placed down for him two glasses. He passed it to Pickles, who took it weakly and nursed the bottle for a while.

"Fun party," Pickles grumbled, while his brother leaned on him and babbled about Amber and other things he couldn't understand. He noticed with a stern composure that the man had his hand on his thigh, and he was trying to slide it upwards. Pickles blushed and leaned on Skwisgaar so hard, the blond glared, but at least he didn't say anything. Seth's hand sidled up to his lap, just barely brushing. Teasing. He refused to look at him, and barely stifled a yelp when Seth clamped his fingers down on his cock. With a furious shame he realized that it wouldn't have hurt so much had he been soft.

"Having fun, bro?" Seth leered, and he poked his fingers under Pickles' belt.

Pickles wriggled and disguised the intent by calling over a waitress. "Bacardi and coke, please!"

However, Seth still maintained his hold and tried even harder to get his hand down Pickles' pants. "Come have a smoke with me," he said huskily.

"Lemme get my drink first, eh?" Pickles said, and he caught Toki's baleful eyes. A quick scan told him that everyone else definitely noticed something, and were tense, but they were also working on getting drunk.

"So, hey," Pickles said in a loud and forced tone. "How's Amber these days, eh?"

Seth withdrew his hand and slammed his drink. "Ah, same as when you knew her." He grinned. "Love of my fucking life!" He nudged Pickles hard, almost making him spill the drink in his hand. "Carrying my daughter. Can't complain."

"That's cool," Nathan rumbled. Pickles imagined that if Seth had a wife and kids, then Nathan would think that he mustn't be interested in his own brother anymore. Of course, since Pickles had never talked to him about it, he really wouldn't know. "What's her name gonna be?"

With a dark, toothy sneer, Seth looked at Pickles and said, "I thought I'd name her Amy."

Pickles choked on his drink and faced Seth with wide, wild eyes. "Don't you fucking dare," he hissed.

While Seth stared at him, the same look on his face, Toki asked timidly, "What's is wrongs with Amy? Sounds nice."

"You stay outta this, Toki!" Pickles snapped and turned back to Seth. "You evil fucking prick, what the fuck is wrahng with you?"

Seth brought his glass to his lips, flicked his tongue around the rim and finished it with one smooth gulp. He licked his lips slowly and said, "Ya, it sounds nice."

"Dude," Nathan said. "What the Hell's wrong?"

"Ja," Skwisgaar piped in. "Yous knows we's to be askings you tills you tells us!"

Seth chuckled and Pickles slapped his face in his hands. "Fuck's sake," he moaned. "Alright, I'll fucking tell you, but I better naht ever fucking hear about it again. I will fucking kill you." When he got a round of mumbled, barely serious consent, he went on somberly, "That's the name of a girlfriend I used to have back home..."

Seth scoffed and Pickles glared icily at him.

"Anyfuckingway, she died."

"Woagh," said Nathan. "How?"

"Ya, wasch it all bloody and limbcsh all over the plasche?"

"Murderface!" Pickles yelled. "Holy shit, what the Hell, dood?"

"Ya, that wasch uncalled for," Murderface said with a trace amount of remorse, while Nathan suppressed a grin. "I apologizjche."

"That cunt had it coming to her," Seth sneered, and no one knew how to respond to that.

Pickles socked him across the jaw, and while Seth cradled his face and cursed, he snarled viciously down at him, "You heartless, fucking..." His rage halted his words, and he had to calm down to continue. He yanked Seth up to face him by the collar. "I should kill you just for bringing that shit up."

With blood trickling down his chin, Seth replied, "The fuck you so uptight for? That little bitch hurt me far more than you."

"I can't believe you. You're fucking sick."

Seth pulled free and smoothened out his shirt. "O ya? At least I'm man enough to face my fucking fears, ok? You can't hide from the past."

Pickles sneered, "Which is why you're still living at home with Daddy, eh?"

Seth snatched Pickles' collar, and everyone got agitated. "You little punk." Pickles bristled at this, since this was coming from an ex-con. The seemingly mild term meant something a little darker in prison, and Pickles was pretty sure that his brother was one himself.

Being the closest to them, Skwisgaar reached around to pry Seth's fingers from Pickles' shirt and said, "Stop this fightings, like the chickens that's what's made to fight!"

Nathan thought about correcting him, eager to yell out the word "cock," but decided now wasn't the best time. So instead he got up and stood over Seth. "Hey, come on," he said, and while he appeared menacing, such a big, line-backer body looming over a relatively tiny Irishman, he was actually just trying to calm him down. "This is a party dude, don't be a buzz kill at your own party." He patted Seth's shoulder, and although that knocked him into the table, Seth took it as it was intended and got up. He was still shaking a bit, but he relaxed himself and said to Pickles, "Hey, come and have a smoke with me."

Pickles just glared and curled his fingers around his glass. "Fuck ahff."

"Pickles," Seth prodded. "Come ahn." There was a pleading hint to his voice, but Pickles knew that he'd lose his temper any second. "Please, Dillon?"

Pickles slammed the glass on the table and got up for his brother's throat. Nathan pulled him off and held the two apart. "You fucker!"

Furious himself, Seth barked, "The fuck is wrahng with you?"

"Don't you fucking call me that!"

"It's yer fucking name, asshole!" When Seth tried to push against Nathan's grip, he got shoved back hard. "Fuck, Chief Bromden!"

Nathan didn't get it.

"Naht anymore, douche bag!" Pickles snarled.

Seth paused, then his face lit up with a cruel smirk. "Ah, I see. I fucking see. I was the only one to call you by your real name. Naht even Louise called you Dillon." He scoffed. "Fuck, naht even Mahm and Dad called you fucking Dillon!"

"Exactly, only YOU ever used that name, and as far as I'm concerned, it's naht my fucking name anymore. YOU ruined it!"

"You are such a child," Seth said, shaking his head. "Fuck you, I'll call you whatever I want, douche bag."

"Good God, you guys!" Nathan said. "This is ridiculous, it's a fucking party! I mean, drunk fights can get pretty brutal, but this is seriously lame."

"I'm sahrry, but I'm naht the one bringing up old shit..."

"Shut the fuck up, Pickles!" Nathan yelled, and he shoved them both together. "You both need a fucking hug! You're brothers, you're fucking family! Get over it!"

With Nathan's huge hands smashed into their backs, neither had much choice, although hugging was the last thing either wanted to do to the other. Pickles tossed his arms around Seth just to appease Nathan, and Seth instantly warmed, gripping him tight and pressing his face against the other's. Even when Nathan let go, he still held him, and Pickles could feel his erection. With disgust, he shoved him off and headed for the smoking patio.

"Dude," Nathan said. "Leave him alone for a minute, give him time to cool off."

"Naw, it's ok," Seth grumbled. He gave a hard look to everyone and said, "I'm naht gonna start a fight, arright? Just wanna fucking talk, but he's gahtta be a fucking child..." He kept muttering to himself as he headed for the patio, where Pickles was heating up a pipe bowl.

"No wonder yer going bald," Seth joked, approaching him. Pickles glared and took some hits, thought for a moment and offered it to Seth. "Naw, man. Haven't touched that shit since, well since we were kids." He chuckled. "Fuck. I didn't eat or sleep for two days. You go right ahead." He watched his brother smoke while lighting up a Camel for himself. For a few minutes the brothers smoked in an uneasy, but peaceful silence.

"Hey," Seth said. "I'm naht really gonna call her Amy, ok?"

Pickles glared. "I'll kill you if you do. That shit's naht funny."

"Maybe I'll call her Louise," he smirked.

Pickles gnashed his teeth. "Man, you..."

Raising his hands, Seth said, "I'm fucking joking, dood, Gahd!" He took a drag. "Man, you know what yer prahblem is?"

"No," Pickles answered flatly. "What's my prahblem?"

"You are so caught up with the fucking past." Slowly he walked Pickles to the wooden wall, and bright yellow light bathed them. They were in a corner, but anyone could walk out there anytime. Seth stroked Pickles' cheek with his thumb, while his cigarette burned in the same hand. Pickles flinched, gasping as sparks and ashes sprinkled on his bare shoulder. "What happened happened, we can't change that." His other hand slid down Pickles' ribcage and rested in the curve of his hip. Pickles began to shiver, and he stared into Seth's eyes. "Let me go, Seth," he whispered.

"I have more right to be pissed than you." He took a puff and blew the smoke out in Pickles' face. "You abandoned me, Dillon. You left me, without any fucking warning, alone. With...with Dad."

"Bet he never left you alone, eh?" Pickles sneered, his heart racing from the vicious look on Seth's face.

"Careful, bro," Seth snarled.

"Now who's afraid of the past?" Pickles jeered, ignoring the pain of Seth's fingers digging into his side. "Or should I say present? You're still pretty foxy, does he still..."

Seth back handed him hard, throwing him into the wall and knocking the pipe out of his hand. He took hold of a mass of hair at the nape and yanked it back, so he could stand over him. "That is ahff fucking limits, douche bag!" He shook him.

"Look at you, trying to make it a big secret," Pickles sneered back. "I was there, you're naht the only fucking one, just because he was worse to you..."

Seth let go of his hair only to slam him against the wall with a hand to the throat. "He always favored you! Daddy's little princess, precious fucking Amy!"

It was hard to breathe or talk with his brother's hand crushing his windpipe, but he fought on. "You'd rather be me? You think it was easy, living with that kind of pressure?"

"Pressure?" Seth practically screeched, pressing harder. "What fucking pressure? You little bastard, he adored you! Taking you shahpping, buying you all those fucking clothes!"

Pickles managed to pry Seth's fingers loose enough to breathe and he growled, "Ya, girl clothes! I always had to be the good little girl, Gahd help me if I didn't!"

"You sure enjoyed it enough," he said, yanking a dread from the side of Pickles' head. "you fucking psycho! You sure loved pretending to be Amy, just an excuse to get back at me, eh?"

Eyes watering, Pickles hissed, "How many fucking times I gahtta tell you, I couldn't control it, I blacked out every time! I don't even remember..."

Seth put his cigarette out on Pickles' arm and snarled over the shouts of pain, "You're a fucking liar. You loved playing that fantasy, you loved being the princess, you fucking slut."

Pickles spat back, "Fuck you! You're just jealous 'cuz I gaht all the affection." Seth's eyes blazed, but he kept going. "Ya, you're butt-hurt 'cuz Daddy didn't love you and kiss you and..."

Seth punched his face and shoved him into the wall, screaming, "Fucker! You faggot piece of shit, I'm gonna kill you!"

Being less tipsy and more focused due to the meth, Pickles was able to avoid many of Seth's punches, and when Seth tried to grapple him, Pickles overpowered him. Seeing his brother's face red with fury, his teeth bared, both terrified and exhilarated him. He kept thinking about the last time he saw him, just a few months ago for the family visit, and it felt damn good to see such pain in his eyes.

"Ya, you're jealous alright," he said as he darted behind Seth and grabbed him in a choke hold. Only when his hips pressed against his brother's ass did he realize how hard he was, but he didn't care this time. In fact he squeezed Seth closer and ground himself against him, hissing from the warm pleasure and from the pain of Seth's rigid belt.

"Fucking sicko..." Seth choked, struggling against the other's grip.

"You've always been, and I've always known it," Pickles jeered. "You'd watch us and I could see the hatred in your eyes." He chuckled dryly. "You'd even try to imitate me so you could get it too. Pathetic. Although you did look cute in those skirts."

Seth reached back and clawed at him, and very nearly got away. The world was spinning, he felt like throwing up. "He made me wear 'em!" he screamed once he got enough air.

"I'm sure you still liked it," Pickles said into his ear, slamming himself against him. It hurt them both, but it also felt intolerably good for Pickles. "Anything to please 'Daddy,' eh?" When Seth kicked, Pickles choked harder and undid Seth's belt. "You sick mother fucker," he hissed. "I did what had to to survive. I had you and Dad on me! You think I gaht it easy, you fucking bastard. But you," he sneered and tugged harder. "You fucking slut." While Seth struggled and kicked, Pickles rammed him against the wall. "You worked hard to get his approval, didn't you? I know he made you beg, but you wanted it too, didn't you?"

"Fuck you..." Seth wheezed, his face smashed against the wall. His brother's rigid cock grinding into him was painful, but he was rubbing back.

Pickles undid Seth's belt and shoved his hand down his pants and grinned at the sound of his brother's heavy breathing. He gripped the other's cock, satisfied to find it hard. "You're in love with Dad, aren't you? Just like you think you're in love with me." He yanked one of Seth's arms behind his back and held it with his arm, while he squeezed his cock.

Seth burst out crying. His brother held his cock captive; he couldn't move as long as the other's fingers clutched so tight. He knew he was at his mercy. "You don't know what it's like!" he whined.

"O, I don't, eh?" Pickles snapped. "Didn't you fucking hear me? I had two of you sick perverts to watch out for, two assholes to torture me!" He pinched the head and felt himself grow harder at the sound of pitiful moaning. He thought about how in the movie theater his brother had forced him to come, and he slammed Seth's head into the wall. "Remind you of old times, eh?" He took his hand off Seth's throat and drove it into his hair. "How does it feel to be ahn the other side, you dick?" He licked Seth's neck and dragged his teeth along the flesh. "Naht so strahng now, eh?"

"I'm gonna kill you..." Seth whined, and he cried out as Pickles bit down.

"O, but this isn't waht Dad would do..." Pickles jeered, and he forced a finger into the slit. Seth screamed, and Pickles covered his mouth with his free hand. "Familiar, isn't it?" he chuckled. "Yes, this is it." He pressed deeper, almost poking his fingertip inside. He felt the warmth of spilling blood. "No wonder you kept getting those UTIs, eh?" He felt Seth try to bite his hand, so he dug in even deeper. Seth sobbed and opened his mouth. "Good boy," Pickles breathed. "Be quiet for Daddy..."

"Fucking psycho!" Seth croaked, with his brother's fingers probing his mouth.

"Daddy's little whore," Pickles snarled. "But you loved this, you love it when he hurts you. You always said you'd take the blame for shit I did 'cuz you loved me." Pickles scoffed and forced his fingers deep into Seth's throat. It didn't even phase him when his brother puked Irish cream all over the place. "You worthless liar. You wanted Dad to punish you, and then you'd do the exact same shit to me. You fuck."

"Dillon, please!" Seth pleaded, weakened form the pain.

"I'm naht Dillon," Pickles snarled.

Seth knew exactly what he meant, but he couldn't say it. Only after several more stabs into the slit did he finally give out a shrill yell, "Daddy, please!"

Pickles sneered. "That's right, bitch. You worthless faggot. Isn't that right?"

"Y...yes!" Seth whined.

Pickles ripped his finger from the slit, turned Seth around, and zipped up his pants. Then he drug him by the collar into the bathroom, while Seth stumbled to keep up, lost in a daze. He was shoved into a stall and Pickles locked the door. Barely a second later Pickles was in his face, snapping and snarling. "Dillon was always good to you. He loved you. But you...you..."

"I've always loved you, Dillon!" Seth squeaked.

Pickles punched his crotch and forced him to stand up straight, ignoring the moans. He yelled, "I'm naht Dillon!"

"Let me go," Seth whimpered.

"You betrayed your brother," Pickles continued, teeth bared. He shoved Seth over the toilet, facing him, and gripped tight his collar with one hand and unzipped him with the other. "You made him run away, that was your fault!" Once again he finger fucked his brother's slit, watching with intense fascination as the other clung to him and grew pale, his cries desperate, guttural. "He did everything for you, and you chewed him up and spat him out."

"You don't know what Dad..."

Pickles pushed in deeper than before and wriggled his finger. He had it in almost to the first knuckle.

Leaning on him, shaking, Seth whispered, "You...you!" Pickles held his finger still. "You hurt me so much, Dad!"

"That's naht what you used to call me, slut."

"Daddy! Gahd you hurt me so fucking bad!"

"Why shouldn't I, for what you did to Dillon?"

Seth didn't answer for a minute. He cried bitterly, clutching Pickles' arm so hard he drew blood. Finally he gave Pickles a glare and spat in his face. "I'm gonna fucking kill you, you sick fuck!"

Pickles punched his face and turned him around. "You're a weakling," he said, slamming Seth's face on the wall. "Picking ahn yer little brother just because you could, well guess what?" Pickles punched Seth in the back and then dropped his own pants. "Yer little brother grew up!"

Seth shuddered at the feeling of Pickles' erect cock on him. He panted as his brother's breath fell heavily on his neck, and he was transported right back to his father's bed, just as helpless, just as much the prey.

"I'm sahrry!" he hissed, bucking against Pickles. "Stahp hurting me!"

"Stahp hurting me, what?" Pickles leered as he wrapped his fingers around Seth's cock and squeezed. He used the dribbling blood as a lubricant. "Say it, bitch."

"Daddy!" Seth gasped. Pickles let got and shoved a finger up his ass, while the other hand clawed Seth's scalp. "You want Daddy to fuck you?" he hissed. he waited, but Seth only groaned. He tugged his hair and shouted, "Answer me, faggot!"

"Yes!" Seth cried, shaking. He tried hard not to push himself against the other's finger. "Please..." He swallowed. "Daddy..."

At this point someone entered the bathroom, and Pickles slapped a hand over Seth's mouth. He still had a finger pumping inside the other, and he delighted at the muffled sounds. Pickles looked down and recognized those boots as Toki's. He listened for the other to piss and leave, and felt horribly embarrassed for some reason. When Toki left, Pickles let go of Seth's mouth and put his hand back on his cock. While he tore at the wounded slit, he fingered Seth's prostate and growled, "Beg your Daddy to fuck you, faggot."

"Please, fuck me, Daddy!" Seth whined, barely able to talk. He was choking on tears and overcome by the conflicting pleasure and pain.

Pickles stole some blood from the front and slicked himself up. "I fucking knew it," Pickles sneered, pressing himself inside. Seth pressed his head against the wall and moaned as Pickles rammed it in. It was far easier than it had been with Toki his first time, but it did still take a strained effort that pained them both. "You've always wanted to be mine, but Amy stole me from you."

"Fuck you," Seth wept. He gasped and clawed the wall as Pickles rammed his spot, and he crept his hands to his cock. Noticing this, Pickles smacked his head against the wall and pulled both his hands behind his back.

He fucked him hard. He savored those breathy, desperate sighs and those hungry moans in response to his savage thrusts. Growls of pleasure and lust intermixed with a pitiful sobbing. He'd heard his brother make all kinds of sounds when they were alone together, but not these kinds of sounds. So far only their father had been able to draw these out.

He held Seth's wrists together with one hand and took hold of his cock, fingers ripping. Seth cried and begged, but he drove into the wounded hole and said, "You love it when Daddy hurt you, don't you?"

Seth moaned for a while, then breathed, "Yes."

"You think he favored me," Pickles growled. "No, it was you. You were always his pet, his whipping boy. He knew how you loved it."

"You..." Seth wheezed. "You don't know what it's like..."

"Uhuh. I don't know what it's like to try so hard to get someone to love me, only to be beaten and raped and insulted day after fucking day!" His breath came out in ragged puffs; he was close.

Bucking against him, his face pressed into the wall, Seth whined, "You loved me once..."

"And then you fucked it up!" After giving Seth a few more digs, pulled out and turned his brother to his knees, facing him. He forced his cock through his lips. "Did Dad make you do this?" he said. When Seth didn't make any attempt to answer, Pickles rammed in deep, gagging him, and he held his head with his thumbs by his eyes, ready to gouge if he tried anything. Pickles had learned this trick from his own victim years ago, and he was sure that the irony was not lost on him. He let Seth thrash and claw at him until he slowed. He only pulled out just enough to give him air. "Nod or shake your head."

Seth shuddered and greedily sucked in air. Weakly, he nodded.

"Good." For the next few minutes Pickles fucked his mouth, panting and growling as he got closer. Drooling, clutching at Pickles' pants, Seth started drifting, close to passing out. The thought that jerked him awake was that his father had tasted different...

Pickles shoved Seth away and leaned on the opposite wall, heaving. "Gahd..." Seth had by then crawled to the wall, where he curled and waited, silent. He didn't even bother to wipe the mess off his face; he looked dead. As pickles stood over him, he pressed against the wall, staring at the other's legs, just waiting.

"Get up," Pickles barked, but Seth didn't move. Pickles kicked him. "Get. Up."

Wincing, Seth sneered weakly, "Revenge feels good, doesn't it?"

"I could never get you back for everything, but I'm naht trying to." He helped Seth up and held him against the wall. With a smirk he started jacking him off, and Seth only just barely remained standing. "Hurt?" he asked, fingering the slit.

"Gahd, yes!" Seth said, his red eyes half closed. "Who the fuck are you now?" he asked with a husky moan.

His thumb slid across the wound and down the healthy flesh. "Pickles, just Pickles." He watched with his tongue tracing his lip as Seth's expression changed back and forth, depending on how he touched him.

"Yer always gonna be my Dillon," Seth whispered. He gripped the wall with both hands while his brother teased his cock, and he opened his mouth around the other's fingers. He knew better than to bite down, no matter how deep Pickles probed.

"Dillon's dead," Pickles snapped.

In time the pain of the wound and the pleasure of the stroking blended into one fierce sensation that left the older man easily subdued. Any fight left in him seemed gone.

"I used to wish I had the time and the energy to do to you everything you did to me," Pickles whispered, and he alternated between fast, rough strokes, and teasingly slow ones. He leaned in close, his brow against the other's, and Seth grabbed his shoulders, his arms hanging off them weakly. "Hold you under the bathwater till you almost drown, tie you to trees, plug you up with something crazy and beat you senseless if you take it out. Fuck, can't even think of everything in one day."

"You liked it," he groaned.

Pickles pushed his fingers to the back of his throat, but pulled back to the teeth as the other started to throw up. "You deserve nothing less than to have your throat cut and be left in here to die," he snarled, and he pulled his fingers from Seth's mouth to yank his head back by the hair. The harsh white bathroom light shone on the various liquids scattered on the man's face. "But I'm naht gonna be the one to do it," Pickles said with disgust. "I'm naht gonna be like you."

Through his agonized moans, Seth laughed. "What the fuck do you call this, you fucking psychopath?"

"It's just this one time, it doesn't count," Pickles sneered.

"Just as naive as always," Seth wheezed, uselessly tugging against the grip on his hair. "You, me, Dad, we're all the same." When he chuckled, fluids trickled down his chin. "It's the O'Leary curse, and yer a natural."

Pickles smashed the heel of his hand into Seth's crotch. "I'm nothing like you!"

Clutching Pickles' shirt and choking on tears, Seth said, "Yer right, you wait till I'm drunk and stupid to do this; you're a coward."

"Yer right. I shoulda killed you years ago."

Seth started grinding against Pickles' hand, even as he forced the wound more open. "I shoulda killed you in LA. You broke my heart, Dillon. We were in love, we were gonna elope and everything. And then you..." His teeth gnashed, his head thrown back, as he felt the blood warm his shaft.. "You left me!"

"That was wrahng! Yer my _brother_! You fucked with my mind, you manipulated me, I see that now." he scoffed, "In love, fuck you! You ever heard of Stockholm Syndrome, ya evil fuck?"

"You didn't care I was your brother back then..."

"Do you even remember what ya did to me? You'd 'a killed me if I stayed any lahnger!"

Seth clamped his hand on Pickles' throat, but in his weakness, it was hardly a threat, even with his bared teeth. "What do you expect? You don't even know what Dad did to me..."

"Yes I do."

"Nothing I did to you compares to what he did..."

"Just cuz yer claustrophobic..."

"I protected you from him..."

Pickles held Seth's cock, his hand wrapped tightly around it. He could feel the other's body shiver. "Who protected me from you?"

"You'll never be happy with anyone else," Seth sneered. "Look at you, still alone."

"Fuck you," Pickles growled, and he went back to sounding him with his finger.

Seth's body sagged against the other's. The pain was so severe, and yet he was so close to coming. "Say what you want," he choked. "I can tell you still have feelings for me."

Pickles stared at him for a second, then barked, "Lick that shit ahff yer lips."

Seth obeyed, his eyes hard on the other's.

When he was satisfied, Pickles pushed Seth's face into his and kissed him, his tongue sliding, probing, teeth grabbing at lips, while Seth did his best to keep up. As he kissed him, Pickles stroked him. He brought him so close, and he himself was already hard again. But he let go and pulled away just before his brother had a chance to climax, and with tears rolling down his cheeks, said, "Yer gonna die alone."

Sliding down the wall as soon as he was let go, Seth listened to his brother leave. When he was sure he was gone, he beat the wall until his fist puffed up and forced himself to come. Leaning over the toilet, he hissed, vomit dangling from his lips, eyes swollen almost shut, "So will you."


End file.
